Emily's POV
"Just popping down to the shop really quick, do you want anything?" Louis asked me from the doorway of the motel. I was still in bed, watching him get ready to go.
"Nah I can't think of anything I need," I replied with a smile, and he nodded and dashed out of the motel.
I decided to check my Twitter whilst he was gone, and I quickly opened the internet. My stomach lurched and my jaw dropped at what I saw when I opened it. My face was plastered over every single news and gossip website, but not only my face. No. My left arm was plastered there as well, with the cuts all over my wrists close up'd on for the world to see. I hadn't taken enough care to avoid these pictures yesterday. Oh god. They were all of me in the morning when I went to buy the water and the chocolate, and I was carrying the bottle of water and my arm was exposed as I wasn't wearing any bracelets, only that charm.
I panicked so bad. If every single website had these pictures, then the magazines had to have them too, right? Which means Louis was bound to see this everywhere he looked when he went out just before. And the paparazzi isn't going to leave him alone about it.
I shut the laptop quickly, not even bothering to check my Twitter, because I know that would've exploded. I lay in bed in silence, dreading the moment Louis walked through that door.
I heard the door open, but I kept my eyes fixed on the blanket as Louis walked in. He didn't burst in being his cheery self as usual, so I knew he must've known. He put the items he'd bought on the bench in silence, and didn't say a word to me. He came and stood at the end of the bed, staring at me, his eyes boring right through me.
"Care to tell me anything?" he shot at me, and held up a magazine with a closeup of my wrist on it. I flinched at the bitterness in his voice, and I couldn't bring myself to look at him.
"Well?" he pressed on, anger and disappointment clear in his voice. "Were you even planning to tell me?" he asked, a hint of hurt clear in his voice. I looked up at him, only to be greeted by an expression that killed me. His eyes were full of hurt, anger, sadness and betrayal.
"Show me your arm," he said softly, the hurt still clear in his voice. I didn't move, only I looked up at him again with weak eyes, tears threatening to fall any second.
"Emily, show me your arm," he demanded, and I flinched at my name. He never ever used Emily, so I knew then that he was devastated about what I did.
I slowly sat up a little bit more in bed and stared at him the whole time. I pulled the sleeve of my shirt up to reveal the bright red cuts across my wrist. I held my arm out to him and looked away from it, disgusted in myself. Disgusted that I'd done it again, but disgusted that I'd hurt Louis. I heard him gasp a little, and his eyes stayed fixated on my wrist. Slowly, he came over and held my arm in his hand gently, and he traced each cut with his finger. As he did this, the tears fell out of my eyes silently, and he wiped them away gently.
"I'm sorry," he sighed sadly, and pulled me into a hug, and I folded into him, soaking yet another one of his shirts with my tears.
"Why are you sorry? You're not the one who should be sorry!" I cried to him, and he managed a small smile, and rubbed my back.
"For flipping out at you," he said simply, resting his chin on my head.
"This is exactly why I didn't tell you," I said, sounding more bitter than I intended.
"And why is that?" Louis asked, his voice even and somewhat calm.
"Because I knew this would happen, and you'd get all upset about it," I said simply and lay back down again.
